Turnabout Discoveries
by xoxfiresignx
Summary: Phoenix's obsession with Edgeworth has been called unnatural, even homosexual. But it's far less mundane, and far more complicated. NOT YAOI! Sorry for the lame title.
1. A Truth of Sorts

**A/N - I am so sick of Phoenix/Edgeworth fics. I know to some people they are the way, the truth, and the light, but they are definitely not my cup of tea. So here I am, with a different explanation. If someone has done this before, I'm truly sorry. But I went trawling and didn't find it anywhere, so I think I may be alright. It's going to be a few chapters long. It's set after T&T but in the same year (so Phoenix and Miles are 26, Maya's 19, Pearl is 9).**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any AA/GS game, but if I did I'd be in heaven.**

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Chapter 1:

A 'Truth' of Sorts

Rain fell lightly over the city. It was a warm rain, landing as softly and gently as snow on the cooling asphalt. Phoenix Wright, a blue beanie hugging his head tightly and suffocating his carefully spiked hair, barely noticed the precipitation as he walked in quick, purposeful strides. He'd spent the afternoon at the police station, having gone there to return a piece of evidence from his last case and ending up engaged in a long and rather pointless discussion about the merits of underwater basket-weaving with detective Gumshoe. He'd finally decided to call it a day after he received a frantic phone call from his assistant, Maya, worried sick about him and hungry to boot. He'd apologized profusely, promised to pick up dinner on the way home, and hit the streets.

He entered his favourite supermarket: "Bargain Barn." It was just around the corner from his office, and happened to sell decent food at illegally low prices. _Child labour is good for the economy_, he reminded himself, strolling through the rather dingy, unswept aisles. He grabbed a bag of what seemed to be fully prepared, frozen hamburgers. They were Maya's favourite meal, after all. And if he told her to watch T.V. while he cooked them, she would never know they'd been microwaved to life.

As he stood and waited in line, a tabloid magazine caught his eye. He stared at the covers and a picture of a very familiar face stared back with cold, dark eyes. The title above the picture was lurid purple script that proclaimed: _"Demon" Prosecutor's Secrets Revealed!_

Intrigued, Phoenix threw the magazine onto the conveyor belt. The clerk, a teenaged girl with enough metal in her face to build a car, raised an overly-decorated eyebrow at him, and he shrugged.

"I'm studying law," he commented, sarcastically. She obviously didn't get the joke, because she gave him a look that plainly said: "Yeah, and I'm wearing this much metal because I want to open a steel plant someday.' He snickered at his own imagination, and her sceptical look deepened. Just to frighten her further, he tugged on the edge of hisbeanie and glanced around anxiously, muttering, "They're everywhere!" She rang in his order so quickly that she gave him three extra dollars back in change. Hardly believing his luck, Phoenix grabbed the bag and skipped out of the store, humming the tune to 'I Feel Pretty', just to keep up the image.

Once outside, Phoenix stopping skipping and humming, opting instead to tug the tabloid out of the bag and then wrap the plastic handle around his wrist so that he could use both hands to read the magazine while he walked. The cover article was a ten-page ordeal, full of pictures of Miles Edgeworth that has obviously been snapped without his knowledge or consent. There was a photo of the maroon-clad prosecutor filling out a crossword at a restaurant, and another one — Phoenix actually laughed out loud when he saw it — of the 26-year-old man petting the ruffles that ran down the front of his shirt. Then Phoenix saw the headline of the article, and he remembered why he had bought the thing in the first place. He stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk — reading and walking gave him a headache — and began to read.

_Edgeworth's Past Revealed! The legendary prosecutor, Mile Edgeworth, has always been seen as somewhat of an enigma, in the courtroom and out. His past can now be exclusively revealed, from his father's brutal murder, to his mother's tragic death, to his longtime friendship with ace defense attorney, Phoenix Wright._

Phoenix glanced down the article and noticed that it was indeed divided into three sections with three headings: _Gregory Edgeworth, Vanna Edgeworth, _and _Phoenix Wright_. Though sorely tempted to know what the 'Friday Fact-or' had to say about his friendship with Miles, Phoenix had a different agenda. His eyes found a particular section, and he began to read.

Ten minutes later, he looked up from the magazine. Anyone who saw him at that moment would have run as far away as quickly as they could. His knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping the cheap paper, and his face was so angry and disgusted that even always-cheerful Maya would have been afraid of him. His lips were pressed in a tight line, and his eyes flashed like daggers.

"Fools!" he muttered to himself. "Foolishly foolish fools with a foolhardy fool's foolish ideas!" He felt like whipping something, but he settled for throwing the magazine with as much violence as he could muster onto the sidewalk. He was in shock about what he had just read. They thought they'd uncovered the truth? They'd barely scratched the surface of an elaborate lie.

He started walking again, fuming, the plastic bag on his wrist swinging with every step. Judging by the part he'd just read, he knew exactly what they would have said about him: they'd have gone into detail about the homosexual love affair the two men shared. Even last week, Maya had demanded to know whether Phoenix was in love with the prosecutor. He'd refused point-blank, of course. Maya, just like the idiots at the 'Friday Fact-or' office, had no idea.

There was only one person in the world who knew the whole truth. And Phoenix knew for a fact that he would never talk.

As Phoenix walked away, they wind suddenly picked up, turning a few pages of the discarded tabloid. The rain fell silently on a picture of Edgeworth pointing up at the sky in an eternal "Objection!"

- -

**A/N - These chapters will all probably be rather short.**


	2. Magatama

**A/N - Sorry it's taken me so long. I've actually had this chapter written for a long time, but I just didn't get the chance to type it out 'til now.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Phoenix Wright, but if I did he'd be my pet and he'd have to snuggle with me.**

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Chapter 2:

Magatama

Maya Fey was incredibly frustrated. She'd called her boss/best friend/caretaker at least an hour ago, and he was still nowhere to be found. She spun around in the comfortable swivel chair that had so often distracted the attorney who usually sat within its pleather confines. Her little cousin Pearl looked up from an episode of the Golden Samurai and watched the older girl for a moment.

"Mystic Maya," she began, her tone worried. "Is Mr. Nick going to be okay?"

"Maya didn't answer immediately, instead glancing around the rather bare office as though looking for an escape. Her eyes landed in a far corner for a moment and she smiled thinly before responding. "I think so, Pearly." _I hope so_, she added silently.

But Pearl's doubts were not so easily assuaged. "But isn't it sort of . . . mean, what we're doing?" Maya opened her mouth, but found that she couldn't speak. It _was_ mean, but it was something that had to be done. The truth had to come out, for the poor man's own good.

Maya was saved the trouble of answer by the sound of the lock clicking and the door opening.

"I know, I know," Phoenix called grudgingly as he wrestled with a plastic bag. "I got sidetracked, I'm sorry." Maya waved frantically at Pearl, mouthing '_Get to your position!'_ The young girl jumped up from the couch and raced to the corner of the room, hiding behind the door. "I've got dinner, I'll have it ready in ten . . ." He stopped, and Maya heard his circle the outer room, looking for them. "Maya? Pearls? Where are you?"

With a quick glance at the corner, Maya got to her feet. "We're back here, Nick!" Her muscles tensed as she heard him near the door. _This is it_.

He appeared on the threshold and she jumped at him, clinging to him in a half-hug, half-wrestling move. He stumbled backwards, surprised, and Pearl darted out from behind the door, slid her tiny fingers quickly into his pocket, and then jumped away.

Once Pearl was clear, Maya slowly extracted herself from Phoenix's arms. She moved back to stand beside her cousin, and Nick looked between them, stunned.

"What on earth was that about?" He sounded ridiculously confused. Maya sighed, reaching into her pockets to ensure that she had everything she needed. Then she held out her hand, and Pearl placed in it a smooth, green object shaped like the number 9. The man stared at it. "The magatama . . ." Maya nodded. "What's this about?"

"Nick," she began, seriously. "It's time you told us the whole truth."

He looked frightened now, his brown eyes darting from Maya's stern expression to the jade figure in her hands. "What do you mean, the 'whole truth'?" he asked, rather nervously, tugging at the edge of his beanie. Maya took a deep breath, steeling herself to ask a question that she'd asked him once before. But this time, she had a foolproof lie detector on her side.

"Nick," she began, slowly. "Are you in love with Mr. Edgeworth?"

"NO!" He glared at her. "I am not, will never be, and never, ever have been in lvoe with Edgeworth!"

Nothing happened. The magatama lay quiet and pale, and the world stayed firmly realistic. Pearl looked up at the older Fey expectantly, but Maya shook her head. "No reaction. He's telling the truth." Pearl looked pleased.

"Of course he is!" the little girl mumbled happily to herself. "After all, Mystic Maya is Mr. Nick's special someone, not Mr. Edgeworth!" Maya resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but couldn't repress the little glimmer of happiness that grew inside her. The contentment was immediately quashed, however, by determined resignation. _I knew it couldn't possibly be that easy_.

"Nick," Maya said quietly. "There's obviously more between the two of you than simple friendship."

"What makes you say that?" Phoenix snapped, avoiding her gaze.

"It's kind of obviously!" she huffed, frustration levels rising again. "You're like, obsessed!" He glared at her again, his eyes pained. "Don't you look at me like that! I'm sick of your lies!" She moved towards his, tugging almost viciously on the strand of hair that fell over her left shoulder. "You became of lawyer because of something _he_ didn't even remember! You got all pissy when he left to find himself! You ask for his advice of everything! He's the one you run to in an emergency before anyone else!" She took a deep breath, calming her nerves. "Look me in the eyes and tell me it's just friendship."

He was silent for a moment, staring at his shoes. Then he raised his eyes to hers. "It's nothing, Maya." But even he sounded unconvinced. "We're just friends."

Out of nothing — out of nowhere, the world flashed in front of her eyes. Chains popped into existence, twisting themselves like metallic snakes in front, around, and behind the lying lawyer. Five red and yellow locks secured the web of chains in place.

_Okay, that is seriously cool._ Aloud, she said; "Just friends? I don't think so." She held up the magatama, which was now glowing like some alien technology. "You can't hide things from me now, Nick. I'm getting the truth, and I'm getting it from you."

Pearl nodded vigourously. "I know it's mean, Mr. Nick, but it's for your own good. 'The truth shall set you free!'" she quoted happily.

Phoenix sighed, raising a hand and rubbing his forehead in either exasperation or anxiety. "You really know how to corner someone, don't you?" Maya inclined her head toward him.

"I learned from the best." She felt powerful. She had prepared for this day — spent hours in the library, at the police station, and in various government buildings. Now, with the glowing magatama, a pocketful of evidence, and her incredibly insightful cousin at her side, Maya knew that she could counter any argument her 'mentor' of sorts would throw at her. Grinning, she watched him shift uncomfortable from one foot to the other. "So," she began, stroking the smooth side of the jewel in her hand. "'Just friends' . . . I doubt that."

As Nick sputtered and tried to explain himself, Maya glanced into the corner of the room. For better or worse, the truth would come out.

- -

**A/N - And so the interrogation starts. Will Maya get the answers she seeks?**


	3. PsycheLocks

**A/N – I'm so sorry this took me so long! What with school and two jobs and trying to figure out which university I want to go to, I've been stupendously busy. But here we are; my version of the truth. I hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Phoenix Wright. Stop reminding me.**

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Chapter 3:

Psyche-Locks

Maya took a step closer to Phoenix. He stood firm, staring at her with an expression that was at once anxious terror and powerful determination. He was framed in the doorway, the light from the outer office shining around him like a golden halo, and for a moment she saw him the way witnesses must see him. Then she reminded herself that _he_ was the witness now, she the lawyer. It wouldn't do to forget that.

She shared a glance with Pearl, who gave her a look so full of strength and faith that the older girl felt bolstered, happy, much more confident than her nineteen-year-old body ever had before. She was glad she'd let Pearl join in on this. Though the little girl had offered to channel her cousin's older (and long-dead) sister, Maya had refused. She wanted to do this herself. And she would.

She turned her attention back to her employer/best friend/whatever he was. He was watching her warily, as though hoping she'd forget about the interrogation. She smirked and clapped her hands together in front of her chest.

"Alright Nick," she said in a falsely sweet voice. "Let's get started."

His face crumpled and he nodded dejectedly. "Do your worst, Maya. This is my secret, not yours."

_There are only five locks to break_, she thought. _Okay, so maybe that's a lot. But I can do it!_ Her eyes took in Nick's form, then darted into the corner again. _I __**have**__ to do it._

"So, you say you're not in love with Mr. Edgeworth. But you're closer to him than 'just friends'. And this goes deeper than him defending you as kids." Nick's face was now a steely mask of composure. "So, maybe the reason you're so connected to Edgeworth isn't about him at all, but someone else."

The lawyer laughed wryly. "And who would that be, little miss I-know-everything?"

"Well," she began, rummaging around in her pocket as she spoke. "We know it's not Miles. And we already know everything there is to know about his dad, because of _that_ case." She finally found what she was looking for and tugged it out of her pocket. It was a copy of this week's _Friday Fact-or_; the same one that Nick had bought and tossed aside only minutes before (though she wasn't to know that). "The only logical conclusion I can come to is that you're connected to his mother, Vanna Edgeworth." She waited expectantly for the first of the locks to break, but it did not. Nick's eyes tightened and he gripped the edge of his beanie, but there were no other signs that he was cracking.

"That's a wonderful assumption, Maya," he chided. "But you know what happens when we 'assume'." She rolled her eyes. "So I guess I'm going to have to say _prove it_. I have no connection to Vanna Edgeworth. I've never even met her; she died before I ever went to school with Miles."

Maya grinned. "Well, I was snooping through your stuff, as usual." Nick glared at her, but she ignored it. "And I came across a very interesting picture." She pulled the image in question out of her channeling clothes and held it out for Nick to see. It was a photo of a beautiful woman with long, dark hair, who was holding two little boys on her lap.

Then Maya pointed to the picture of Vanna Edgeworth in the magazine. The two women were, without a doubt, one and the same.

"If you have no connection to her, why do you have this picture?" Maya couldn't help but stick her tongue out at her boss, to emphasize her triumph.

Nick nearly ripped the beanie in half with the strength of his grip; his eyes narrowed to pinpricks. "Maya . . ." he grunted, half-angrily, half-annoyed. The first lock shattered into a thousand million pieces and disappeared.

Then he seemed to regain control of himself. His eyes softened, he released the beanie --- re-adjusting it so that it sat properly on his head --- and he gave a sad little smile.

"Vanna is dead. Edgeworth told me about her, gave me that picture. She died in a train wreck when Edgeworth was two years old, there's no way I could ever have . . ." He trailed off, frowning. May was shaking her head at him, her smirk widening into a broad grin.

"I asked Detective Gumshoe to look into a few things for me." she told Nick, two more pieces of paper finding their way from her robes into her hand. "One of which was Vanna's death. They never announced it because it's still an open investigation, but the death certificate was forged." She showed him the forged certificate.

His brow furrowed. "Someone died in that crash," he said, his voice stronger. "If it wasn't Vanna, then who was it?"

She passed him the other document; it was an autopsy report. "The medical examiner concluded from the dental records that the dead woman was not Vanna, but Elise French, the Edgeworth's maid."

Nick's hand had jumped up to his hat again, and as he twisted the knit material violently, the second lock smashed and fell away.

"How many locks is that now, Mystic Maya?" Pearl asked, tugging excitedly on her cousin's sleeve.

"Two, Pearly," the older girl answered, grinning down at her accomplice. "There are only three more to break before Nick finally tells us the truth."

Nick glowered at them both, but ignored their conversation. "So, you're saying that Vanna faked her own death? Why would she do that? Where's the motive?" Nick was getting desperate; she could see the little beds of sweat forming on his forehead as he tried to distract her.

Maya smiled, producing yet another piece of paper. She had so many more pieces to present to him, too. It was hard to keep track of them all. "The other thing I asked  
Gumshoe to look into for me was this." She passed the paper to Nick. "Vanna Edgeworth was a famous prosecutor, who got lots and lots of big crime bosses put behind bars. That's the list of gang members she'd gotten locked up." Nick swallowed, his eyes moving down the list. "And on the back of that," Maya continued, chuckling as Nick flipped the paper over with alarming speed. "Is a note she received from a certain gang, threatening her life and her family."

Nick's eyes met hers and she saw pure despair in them. She faltered, her heart stuttering a little at the sight of him so broken. But she shook the feelings of pity out of her mind, focusing on what she had to do.

"Vanna had to fake her own death to protect her family. It was the only way they'd be safe."

Nick sighed deeply, passing the list/death threat back to her. He was silent for a moment, and Maya was certain that the third lock was about to dissolve. She could almost hear the sound of it. But then Nick raised his eyes to hers and she took a step back, shocked. There was power, confidence, and . . . _condescension _on his face.

"Look, Maya," he began, smiling politely. "I know you're trying your best, but you've really proven nothing. So Vanna Edgeworth didn't die on that train, so she faked her own death . . fine. I'll accept that possibility. But what you haven't proven is how this is tied to _me_."

Maya's jaw tightened. _Does he honestly think I'm so unprepared?_ A newspaper article was thrust into his face before he'd even managed a victorious cackle. "Wha --- what is this?" he demanded, his eyes locked on the headline: _Train Wreck Outside of City; Famous Prosecutor and Infant Son Dead._

"Vanna wasn't the only one who 'died' in that crash. Vanna's _two-year-old son_ died, too. And that son obviously wasn't Miles Edgeworth; according to this, Vanna had left one of her _twin boys_ at home with their father." Phoenix's eyes were wide with horror; his hat was off his head and balled up in his fist. Maya stretched out a hand, pointing dramatically into her mentor's face. "_YOU_ were the other son, Phoenix Wright!"

The third Psyche-Lock exploded with so much force that she felt as though she'd be knocked off her feet. Even Pearl, sensitive as she was to spiritual power, gasped. Her young eyes jumped from the medium to the attorney and back again.

Nick was stuttering. "P-p-prove it!" he yelped. "Vanna Edgeworth isn't my mother! Prove that we're connected like that!"

"Alright, I will!" Maya yelled back, her arm still outstretched. She brought it back quickly, diving again into her pockets until she found the final few pieces of evidence. "Here's the marriage certificate between Gregory Edgeworth and Vanna _Wright_!"

The fourth lock was decimated Nick was sweating bullets now, his beanie crumpled into a tiny knot of wool. "Wright is a very common last name!" he shouted, desperation seeping into his voice, into every action. "It's not at all unlikely that her maiden name was the same as mine!"

Maya grinned evilly and threw the last article at the lawyer. It was a birth announcement in the local paper.

"'Arthur Wright, brother of the late Vanna Edgeworth, and his wife Aina Wright are proud to announce the adoption of their new _two-year-old son, Phoenix_!' That's dated only weeks after Vanna and her son 'died' in that crash!"

The fifth lock burst. Phoenix slumped. Maya stood, tall and triumphant.

"It . . . it's true." Nick muttered, wiping his eyes. "It's all true." He smiled faintly. "You'll be a great lawyer someday, Maya."

The chains retracted slowly and Maya was left staring at her broken caretaker, while the light in the Magatama faded away.

- -

**A/N – How many of you saw that one coming from the get-go? I think I might have made it too obvious from the very first lock. Oh well!**

**P.S. 'Aina' is Finnish for 'always'. And people say that I don't have a sense of humour.  
**


End file.
